


Collection

by justsleepwalkin



Category: Men in Black (Movies)
Genre: Gen, multiple characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-05
Updated: 2016-01-14
Packaged: 2017-11-23 18:04:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/625086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justsleepwalkin/pseuds/justsleepwalkin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of drabbles relating to all three movies, more or less, so potential spoilers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

> I've been plucking at some of my longer works before my next semester starts, but since that's gone sluggish, here's some random, small drabbles that I've been working on when I can't think on my other works. Most which were written awhile back when I rewatched the movies, and some of them from today when I rewatched MIB3. If I have any more at a later point, I'll likely just add another chapter of a bunch.

**Fireworks**

Someone down on the science team that designs and builds some of MIB's guns thought it'd be fun to include fireworks on the larger models. They thought, “Hey, if we're going to blow shit up, we might as well make it look even more awesome when we do it.” Zed wasn't amused. _“This isn't the 4_ _th_ _of July”_ he said. Jay found it hilarious. It's not like they could ever really celebrate the 4th themselves anyway; the holiday was about as bad as St. Patrick's Day when it came to the alien populace. Which meant work, work, and more work.

 

**Rules**

Kay doesn't live where he does out of personal taste. Perhaps it was because of his years in service that he was “awarded” such a sophisticated-styled apartment, already filled out with books before he even walked in through the door the first time, sighing as he stood in the doorway. _Live where we tell you._ Aside from the addition of his gun-collection (MIB agents have a bad habit of getting attached to their weaponry over time, even Jay's succumbed to it), he hasn't added much to the apartment than what was already there.

They break rules a bit when it comes to “eat where we tell you.” It never worked with Kay. After he had retired, Zed tried to push the rule onto Jay, but he was far too much like Kay already and bended his way around it, only _sometimes_ eating in the locations that MIB agents were supposed to. When Kay was reinstated, that “sometimes” became “next-to-never.” Other agents were always surprised when Jay and Kay walked into a regulation establishment.  
  
Oh didn't even bother when she became Chief. If she got them to follow the other, more important rules, she honestly didn't give a damn about where they picked up a meal.

 

**Jobs**

When out in the field together, Kay leaves the memory-fill-in task to Jay. It started as _“You never give anyone HAPPY memories”_ or something of that sort, years ago during their first partnership, but even as Jay mellowed over time, it just became his job. He slid into the role easily enough, sure. Making up shit on the fly, still more long-winded than Kay would prefer, but it's something that he had gotten used to. _“You know when...”_ Kay laughs at them, sometimes. A small wisp of a chuckle. Other times he's left frowning, more than his usual, neutral expression. Those are the times that the replaced memories Jay implants in the victims and witnesses leaves them with unsettling thoughts, bitterness transferred to them from whatever way Jay is feeling at the time.

Kay wonders if he's rubbed off too much on his partner, that maybe he's accidentally shaped Jay into a more jaded person, and he's not sure he can fix it.

 

**Determination**

It's something he doesn't want to do alone. It's been quite a long time since he's ran solo after all. He knows he doesn't have to either, not really. Jay may be upset with him – with good reason; Kay understands it – but he still wouldn't hesitate to come if Kay called. Kay won't, though. Doesn't want to. Can't. Boris the Animal, and even Kay himself – he was too slow, didn't realize, didn't think – ruined Jay's life once already. Kay wouldn't allow it to happen again, even if it means doing this alone. He should've killed Boris the first time; he wasn't going to hesitate to do his damnedest to make sure the Boglodite wouldn't get another chance. Kay refuses to let it be a possibility.

He'll be that buffer between Boris and the rest of the world. 

So he waits, gun in hand, armed, ready.

 

**Nicknames**

Even in the past, even when Jay is older than Kay, there's still the nicknames. Not only are they some random, out-of-the-blue nicknames (alright, not _all_ of them are, but _cheese_? Really? What gives, Kay?), but they're _his_ nicknames. Slick, hoss, Hondo, chief, sport. Past, present, a neutral, the first thing Kay calls Jay is “slick.” Their familiarity strikes Jay hard. He yearns to go home to his own time, but it wouldn't do him any good. Back there, he's still without a partner. Kay's still dead.

 

**Frank**

Bent over a stolen car, waiting for the policemen to walk into Jay's trap, Jay's surprised to catch sight of the billboard for Coney Island, reading in the middle “The Incredible Talking Pug.” _Huh_. It's not like Jay hasn't met more of Frank's species before (albeit very few), but the “pug” disguise was distinctive enough that it just _had_ to be none other than Frank. Maybe it wasn't something to write home about, but it might be enough that when Jay gets back, he should send a message out to Frank to report that he finally knows about some of the Remoolian's history. Too bad with the mutt deported, it'd be awhile before he heard any of the juicy details of carnival life.

 

**Late**

It's not that Kay is _worried_ or anything of the sort when his partner – who normally has the same impeccable timing as him, often times walking into the diner just as Kay does – hasn't yet shown up. Kay tries to not glance at the clock (often), holds back from calling him (or the chief), and uses the music in the background as a distraction.

Jay's coffee is getting cold. Kay might have to order him a new cup. His eyes certainly don't check the clock (again). Even in the past if things were strained between them, Jay always showed up, though perhaps begrudgingly. How much trouble could the kid get into between last night and this morning?

Just before he's about to finally pull his full attention away from the food in front of him (not even really seeing it) and to the clock, his partner takes his seat. Kay looks at him – “You're late” – and holds in his relief.

 

 


	2. Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some MIB1 and MIB3 things. One implied Jay/Kay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Actually working on fics again. Got some more micro things written in between working on other sutff.

**Half-Truths**

Jay isn't about to correct the young Kay in regards to sitting in a car for fourteen years as partners. Not only is it complicated, Jay doesn't want to _deal with it_. He'd like Kay to have the impression that everything had been _fine_ during that time, that neither of them broke, multiple times, and probably never got done up right again. 

Besides, he needs Kay to trust him.

And that sorta means lying to him.

A lot.

 

**Counterparts**

The moment the cuffs lock around Jay's wrist and he realizes the bull-headedness of this younger Kay, he starts to freak out. The future Boris isn't due to show up yet, but that doesn't make Jay feel any better having Kay out of his line of sight. Any one thing could go wrong; Jay being in this timeline already is jarring things enough, so what if Kay ends up getting killed ahead of schedule? What if he's walked Kay to the gallows? 

He ain't staying put. He wasn't supposed to come across Kay in the first place, but it doesn't matter now, that ship has already sailed. 

He fishes around with his uncuffed hand, taking a shot in the dark. Kay's the kind of person that won't change something if it's not broken. And Jay would bet anything that the younger man puts the damn key in the same place as his future self.

 _Bingo_. He grins victoriously, muttering under his mouth about stuck-up stubborn junior agents. 

 

**Full Circle**

Kay checks the file in his hands three times before accepting that the man inside the police station is the same James Edwards as that small boy at Cape Canaveral. The same boy who's father he couldn't save. Kay was never supposed to cross paths with him again, and certainly not over something like this—not over extraterrestrials. But “coincidence” is a myth and a whisper in his mind says that _this_ needs to happen, even if he can't remember _why_. And whether Kay wants to admit it or not, MIB needs that man. 

He snaps the file closed with a spat curse. Doesn't mean he has to like this. 

Zed can gather all the most qualified people he wants; Kay already knows the truth with stone certainty. James Edwards is his replacement. Kay couldn't stay in MIB with the kid anyway, not with that weighted knowledge in the back of his mind, that reminder of guilt. 

He should have saved that young boy's father. He was supposed to be the best of the best and yet he'd been too slow, had too much emotion surrounding him. 

He stashes the folder in the glove compartment and locks those emotions back where they belong; it's easier, years later, than it used to be. _Necessary_ , too.

He draws in a breath.

Time to introduce himself to his past.

 

**Insignificance**

The disappointed pang after neuralyzing Kay hits Jay harder than he'd like to admit. Weren't they supposed to _be something_? Not just partners. Jay didn't think he read the “signs” wrong. After all, hadn't Kay said something about needing to relax? Take joy in his work? He'd hoped that maybe _Kay_ would _help_ him relax, but damn. Maybe he thought Jay was too distracted; after all, there was Laurel. Or maybe Jay just wasn't enough to turn Kay off of Elizabeth. 

 

**Timelines**

The store bell chimes when Jay pushes through, less in a hurry than he was the last time, but certainly more tired. Jeffrey Price looks up from where he's banging a pen and a pencil on the countertop like drumsticks, and then freezes, mouth agape. “ _Dude_! You're back! I didn't think you'd make it—I mean, I figured you'd make it back to this _time_ , but not to my store!” His eyes go wide. “...Do I get my stuff back?” he asks, voice small and hopeful.

Jay tosses the goggles onto the counter and gives the man a _what do you think_ look.

Jeffrey sighs. Of course.

“You won't be needing that logbook of yours anymore,” Jay tells him.

“Yeah, I kind of figured...” But it's still disappointing. He drops his pen and pencil and picks up the goggles, looking them over. “So, how was 1969? Earth's still spinning so you saved the day and all, but it had to be crazy! Being back in time.”

Jay didn't come here to gossip about time travel. He has other priorities. “You said, before I left, that I was the only one to remember Kay because I was there. What did you mean?”

Jeffrey frowns. “Uh... it wasn't... I don't know, obvious?”

“There was two of me there!”

“Ohh... Yeah I can see how that'd be a bit confusing.” He nods, then panics. “You didn't meet past-you, did you?”

“ _Ugh_. No. But what difference would it have made? Boris ran into past-him.”

“Timelines are _weird_ , okay? There's not as many rules as you might think, because they always sorta shift around. Time travel's moody. Which of you do _you_ think kept your uh—memory?”

“I don't _know_ , that's why I'm _asking_.”

Jeffrey shrugs. “My dad was the expert, not me.” But as he fidgets under Jay's constant glare, he continues, voice quick, “Okay so past-you was always present. Future-you sorta had to be in limbo as 'existing' in 1969 til... you know... you were actually there. It's all fluid like that.”

“So because I was there as a kid, I remember.”

“Or maybe because, in the final version of the timeline, you both were there.”

Jay throws his hands up in the air. “That doesn't make any _sense_!”

“Why does it matter? Why do you _need_ to make sense of it? Things are fixed, right? So just don't... dwell.”

“I'll _dwell_ if I damn well want—” His communicator goes off. Jay jerks away from the counter, fishing the damn thing out of a pocket and making an angry face. “Forget it. See you never, hopefully!” He storms towards the door.

“Thanks for my goggles!” Jeffrey calls. He flinches as the front door clatters closed.

 

**Danger**

“Do you even understand the _consequences_ surrounding this?” Oh demands. Her body's a taut as a wire, but there's a magnitude of worry in her eyes, and that's all she needs to explode at him. “Agent Jay, there's a reason for our rules and though I've let your fraternization with Kay slide, _marriage_ is a completely different topic! This is _dangerous_.”

“Dangerous,” Jay echoes, coolly. He gets where she's coming from, he _does_. But him and Kay've gone through enough in this line of work that he thinks he knows the can of worms he's opening better than she does. “Having _a partner_ is dangerous. You're all worried about weaknesses and what our enemies can use against us, _but they already do that_. The only time anyone's ever been _safe_ is when I was working _solo_. This whole organization runs on weaknesses! If we wanted everyone to be able to protect themselves, we wouldn't have a partner system in the first place! How's a man or woman not supposed to get attached in some way to the one watching their back?”


	3. Part III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> MIB1/Post MIB1.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was watching the first MIB while doing some chores. Paused my work to type up a little bit, then went back to work. 
> 
> After having a writing hiatus after NaNoWriMo ended (which I won, but it was something I wrote for my-eyes-only), I've started 2016 with sussing out "and the days blur into one" which is loosely up to ~30k now. It's nice to be thinking about it again after so long. Hoping to have a new snippet up on tumblr within a week or so.

**Work**

“Where've you been?” Zed asks when Kay walks into the main room, coffee in hand. Zed doesn't look at him, even when Kay steps up besides him. They both watch the twins scroll through profiles. 

“Working,” Kay answers. 

“You're allowed to take a break, you know.”

“Not yet,” Kay says. “I can take a break when I'm out.”

“But then you won't know why you're taking the break.”

Kay's lips pull back into a tight grin.

Zed taps significantly at his watch. “Tomorrow morning. Reeled in some good fish for you.”

Kay replies, nonchalant, “Picked up a candidate of my own. We'll see if he shows.” He turns to start walking away, missing Zed whirling around to finally look at him.

“You what?”

Kay looks over his shoulder, grinning in earnest. “I said I was working.” 

Zed shakes his head. “I'll see you in the morning.”

“Got it, boss.”

 

**Replacements**

There's two ways for Zed to look at this situation. Either Kay's pulling his leg, or Kay isn't telling him something. The latter is what Zed's leaning towards, the longer they go through these tests to find their newbie. They've known each other long enough. He thought, maybe, the hesitation hidden, buried in Kay's gaze when they look out over the shooting range was maybe because of how recent Dee was. But no, Dee's better off and this is _different_. Zed _knows_ it is. 

He just doesn't know how.

He doesn't ask. 

“I hope you know what you're doing,” Zed rumbles instead. Kay can keep his secrets; Zed doubts he could really get it out of him, anyway. 

 

**Cats**

When they enter the small, sparse apartment, a brown and white cat approaches in greeting. He brushes up against Jay's leg, weaving between, then circles 'round and walks over to his owner.

“Is that the cat I think it is?” Jay asks, ogling the cat and Elle. 

She reaches down and runs her knuckles over the cat's head. “Well, what else was I going to do with him?” 

“Uh, I donno, adoption?” 

Elle rolls her eyes. “It's fine. Besides, keeping a pet isn't against regs. And he's familiar with alien things, anyway. Sixth sense sort of thing.”

“I guess so,” Jay murmurs, looking down at Orion, who gets enough of the attention he wants and walks off, hopping up to claim Elle's bed for his own. Elle follows, but instead crouches down and pulls out a crate from underneath. “My stash is limited, definitely not as much as I'd like, but it's better than anything else we have on our hands right now.”

“What, you mean jackshit?” 

She doesn't humor his sarcasm and holds up a gun in each hand, raising a brow. “Which one do you want to take?”

 

**Retirement**

His wife looks at him strangely more often than not. She catches him watching the stars, getting... _stuck_ on them, never just a quick glance. Sees the confusion in his eyes. 

She asks him about the coma, but that same confusion bleeds in here, too. He tells her, days later, what hospital he was in, why he was in the coma... His answers are clinical. There's a lack of feeling to them. A part of him recognizes a niggling in the back of his mind, questioning the answers, pointing out that there's something wrong with them, there's holes— _no_ , his mind whispers over the doubt, _they wouldn't do a shoddy job for this, you're making shit up._ He doesn't know where that particular whisper comes from, and it's gone so fast that he doesn't even focus on it further. 

She asks him if he was always interested in the sky, the stars. He trips over a reply, the words forming into a garbled sentence, and his gaze drops away, embarrassed. She just smiles wearily and brings him to a planetarium, but he doesn't get lost in the projections the same way.

They... cope. 

Years go by, much the same. 

_On our wedding day,_ she asks him, an edge underlying her voice, _how much of your attention was really on me? Or was it all_ up there _?_

He reels as though he was hit. _It isn't like that. It's NEVER been like that! I was looking at you._ Just you. _You're the only thing that mattered when I woke up!_

_Did the doctors say anything? About lasting damage? Should I call someone, Kevin? Do you even have a number to go back to? Is this even something that can be fixed?_

He doesn't answer. The argument isn't resolved. They part ways in tense silence. He goes to work, stress easing out of him once he's through the door. Out of everything, _this_ place feels _right_. 

Half a year of that tension follows along, lurking in shadows and unanswered questions. 

_You won't find a solution up there, Kevin,_ she tells him one night, sadly, standing on their porch near where he sits on the steps. _I guess neither will I. My mother is coming in the morning to pick me up. We'll... We'll talk, Kevin._

They don't talk. He finds his solution. 

He only hopes she can forgive someone that doesn't even exist anymore.


End file.
